Sirens Sing For Me
by Lazy Cakes
Summary: If the gays are in space, why can't they be in the sea?
1. Chapter 1

"What is _that?!_ "

"That's a ship, Lance. You know, the thing you work on every day? The thing we're on right now?"

"I know what a ship is, Hunk, but that thing isn't a normal ship. Look at it closer."

Lance tossed his eyeglass to Hunk, who caught it poorly and turned in the wrong direction.

"Okay, what am I looking for?"

"Over _there_. Do you see it?"

There were a few moments of silence as the weak-stomached cook adjusted his view.

"Woah, Shiro? Come take a look at this."

"Lance, come take the wheel. What did you find?"

The captain the _Paladin_ , Takashi Shirogane handed off control and descended to the base deck of the smallish watercraft, taking the eyeglass handed to him. He directed it towards what had seemed to be another ordinary fishing ship.

At first, he didn't seem to see anything wrong, though the ship was a bit higher out of the water than what was probably safe.

He adjusted the glass. The ship seemed to be abandoned; he couldn't see anyone on deck or at the wheel. "Keith, is there another sandbar out here?"

The navigator shrugged uncertainly.

"I didn't think so."

"It looks like the ship's run aground."

"No, Shiro, that's not it. Look at the nets."

Shiro glanced up at Hunk, who for once was not slouching, and then back through the eyeglass.

All the nets were deployed, and as he scanned them for any flaws, saw one move.

He adjusted the eyeglass closer again.

There was _definitely_ something trapped in one of the nets, hanging halfway in the water. Whatever it was was splashing violently, so much so that Shiro was beginning to think it was a dolphin when a very human arm shot up and grabbed the net from the inside.

"There's somebody trapped in there!"

"Wait, a person? Are you sure?"

Shiro handed the eyeglass off carelessly as he moved to the other side of the ship and the life boats, dropping one into the water.

"Whoa, whoa, Shiro, hold on! We need to plan this out, what if it's a trap? Who's going with you?"

"Lance, bring the ship around, get as close as possible without running aground. Nobody's going with me, the boats are only big enough for two each. It'll be fine, Keith; you'll have eyes on me the whole time. There's nothing to worry about. I'm just going to cut them loose and bring them back, okay?"

"Shiro, hold on-and you're gone." Hunk had tried to slow the captain by grabbing the back of his jacket, but he shrugged out of it and jumped into the boat he'd loosed. He smiled up at his small crew from it, a calming affirmation for all of them.

"It'll be fine, big guy. Don't worry about it. In and out, promise."

He lifted the paddles and began to head for the other ship.

As he drew closer, he could hear the splashing from the person's panicked struggling and sounds that only a human could've made. He came up on the opposite side of the ship, so he couldn't see who he was talking to as he ran his boat onto the soft silt the much larger fishing ship was stuck on and waded to the nearest net, scaling it up onto deck.

"Hello? Can you hear me? Where's the rest of your crew?"

There was no response but that of the splashing water hitting the hull of the ship. Shiro drew his smallest knife warily; now onboard, something did seem very off. At least there was no blood, he thought as he looked around. The ship looked very old, as if it had been grounded years ago. The net that the person was trapped in was linked to the side of the ship, not an actual pulley system; Shiro jumped the railing and found himself barely waist high in the water. How had someone gotten trapped in this?

"Hey, stop struggling! I'm here to help."

The net was wrapped tightly around the person, slapping the side of the ship and sending small waves of water up around Shiro. He still couldn't see the person inside, though he saw a thick lock of woody hair knotted into the net. Shiro reached up and grabbed the net around the hand, pulling it down.

The creature inside froze.

 _It wasn't human._

Shiro was holding a human hand, slender and cold, and staring into human eyes, beautiful hazel. From the waist up, everything about the being was human. Well, almost everything; it had scales on its shoulders and fins along its elbows, slotted gills, and a long dorsal fin bleeding into the _tail_.

The creature's lower half was made up of a tail that was long and winding, a dorsal fin traveling down its back to a thin, silky fin that spread out from the end of its tail like a leaf. It was armored with sleek scales that Shiro felt the inexplicable urge to stroke, to run his fingers over them as if he was feeling seaweed. Glistening shades of emerald and jade in the noontime sun, Shiro was completely enthralled by the tail so strongly that he didn't immediately react when it smacked him in the face, the creature beginning to flail again, panicked whimpers and gasps leaving it as it struggled.

Shiro shook himself back into some semblance of life; whatever this thing was, it still needed his help.

"Stop, stop struggling! Your hair's going to strangle you if you flip yourself around like that!"

In three swift movements, he sliced the net open and the creature's long tail flopped out of its confines, but it was still dangling by its hair. He reached out without thinking and grabbed the creature's hair. He could see no way of untangling it from how it had been worked into the net. As soon as he touched its hair the creature froze again, breath hitched in its throat, and it occurred to Shiro that the creature was, in fact, breathing air through its gills.

Slowly, painstakingly, the creature reached out a shaking hand. It came inches from Shiro's face before hesitating, fingers curling back in.

They stared one another down. It felt like years of silence, some kind of wonder as they tried to understand what each had come across.

Carefully, the creature dropped its hand to Shiro's wrist, taking his knife quietly. He let it go, entranced, and the creature snapped up the blade to slice its hair off just below where Shiro was holding it. It unraveled and Shiro pulled away a handful of long hair, brown like the fleshy inside of a young tree. Its torso followed its tail into the water, but for whatever reason did not shoot away into the deeper ocean. The creature floated where it had fallen, watching Shiro, who was as still as the creature. Its tail swirled lazily through the water, the thin, soft fin at its very end reaching out to Shiro. It weaved between his legs and rested against his chest. In some part of his dulled thought processes, it occurred to Shiro that the creature could be slowly entrapping him.

It came closer and reached out again. The blade was in its hand, and it seemed to be holding it out to Shiro-to take it back? Slowly, with all the intent of being gentle, Shiro reached towards it. The creature's eyes darted down to his hand, away from his face, and stretched the blade a little more.

" _SHIRO!"_

The creature startled horribly; it threw the knife at Shiro and disappeared. Shiro cried out in pain, falling back as the roughly thrown blade cut directly across his face. Keith was screaming from the deck of the _Paladin_ , nothing short of horror on his face as he watched the shape that had been the creature move away swiftly, too quickly to ever capture on ship.

"Shiro, are you okay?! What was that?!"

"Get back on deck!"

Keith threw down a rope. Shiro grabbed it numbly, half-consciously being dragged back on deck. Hunk grabbed him before he was even on deck and pulled him up, forcing him into a tight bear hug as Hunk choked back tears.

"You scared us too much! Oh, why don't you people listen to me?"

Shiro groaned and pushed himself free from the hug, wiping his bloody face on his sleeve.

"What happened down there? What was that?" Lance repeated, bouncing from one foot to the other at the wheel. Shiro looked back to the destroyed net and the knot of hair in his hand, then back out to the open water, where the creature had long since disappeared.

"I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

Pidge couldn't control where they were moving, just as long as they were moving _away_ , they didn't care. They hadn't been that close to a human since they were one. Their hand still burned from where the man had grabbed it, and they wrung it nervously. Glancing back, they dared to near the surface. Curiosity took over their better senses, as it always did. They didn't even have to break the surface to see blurry shapes in the far distance, moving about as shadows on a ship.

 _Ugh, what was I thinking?!_

 _Why didn't I just swim when I first had the chance?!_

 _...Why did I try to touch him?_

Pidge knew the answer as soon as they thought it. It was because it had been years since they had seen a human so close, even longer since they had even spoken to a human.

They approached a cliff and dove over it without hesitation, catching up with and passing through a school of fish as red as the setting sun. A stray bubble of air rolled through their now substantially-shortened hair and disappeared. It had tickled, a little.

They let their hands drag over the wall of a second cliff as they swam down it, body moving the path it had traveled a hundred times so their mind could wander. Over and over, the little siren was replaying the last few days relentlessly.

They had tried to climb onto the deck of the ship, scaling the net, but had fallen into it instead.

The thought that they might die there had only just set in when the man had appeared.

Their hand grabbed onto a ledge their hands had held countless times and they flipped under it, swimming upside down into a dark cave. The cave became a tunnel, so thin that Pidge's fins slapping the walls became the only sound. Back to the present; they had much to do.

The walls of the stony passage began to emit a yellowish light, so faint that it would have been almost unnoticeable, had they not been deliberately searching for the brightest opening. They passed through it, and in only moments entered a cavern awash with yellow and purple light.

The cave had once been much smaller. Now, it was chipped into the shape of a hexagon, at least three rowboats across each way, with shelves worn into each wall.

The shelves were neatly ordered with human bottles and cases, most filled with a bioluminescent liquid that gave off the faint light. One wall, however, was partially filled with glassware that gave off a purple light, putting the rest of the cavern to shame.

And, kneeling in front of that wall, was the water witch.

Her cloak of human silk floated freely in the water, undisturbed though it was.

She turned before Pidge had made aware their presence, and spoke. Her voice was raspy from the years of saltwater it had endured.

"You are _very_ late. You had better have found something spectacular."

Pidge cleared their throat, and sucked water through their gills. As they spoke, they pushed it out instead of air. In this way, their human voice could be heard underwater, uncomfortable though it was.

"I apologize, Haggar. I managed to become trapped in the remains of a human ship. I might not have escaped at all, had it not-"

"-You were looking for your family again, weren't you? I've told you so many times, you were the only survivor. But, Zarkon can-"

"-Can bring them back, I know, you've said this so many times as well, but first you need the Quintessence to bring _him_ back, which needs to be held in the containers I scavenge for you."

Pidge crossed their arms, eyes malevolent. Haggar turned around fully, finally seeming to note Pidge's freshly trimmed hair and exasperation.

"Careful, little scavenger. You owe me yet. You are yet under my command."

"How much longer will I owe you for a half of a body I didn't want?" Color rose into Pidge's cheeks, irritated.

"Child, watch yourself." Haggar rose, her lighted, pupilless eyes narrowed angrily. Her pale hair clung to her shoulders, not bound to the reality of the water around it. "I didn't just save you, I _improved_ you. Had I not found you, you would have been picked apart by the beasts of this ocean, just like the rest of your ship's crew!"

Haggar smiled cruelly, knowing that Pidge's guilt was stronger than their pride. She turned back to the contraption Pidge had built for her, continuing to refine the yellow liquid into the purple stuff.

"Wait."

Pidge's arms came undone from the suddenness of their shock.

"You said you cannot leave this place."

"Yes, obviously. I am trapped here until Zarkon can free me from my banishment."

"...Then how did you find me?"

Haggar turned slowly, face unreadable.

Pidge felt like they'd been stabbed. "You told me the ship you took me from was burning. But you just admitted that you can't leave here."

Haggar stood again, much slower.

"Now little one, hold on-"

"-You didn't find me at all, did you? My family's not really dead, are they? Or do you not even know…"

Haggar had tried to come closer, but Pidge darted away. Their back hit the wall of purple bottles and they grabbed one out of reflex, holding it in front of them like a short club. Haggar's panic was immediate.

" _Put that down!_ "

Pidge dropped their hand, but their eyes dared Haggar to come closer.

"I'm going to find my family. Try to stop me."

Still holding the bottle of refined Quintessence, Pidge moved for the tunnel.

"Humans can't understand you, you ungrateful brat! See how well it works, you need me!"

"Actually," Pidge called, voice echoing through the cavern as they left it, "I think it's you who needs me."


	3. Chapter 3

"What is _that_?!"

"Lance, you better stop that before you give Shiro whiplash."

"Sorry, Shiro, I know what that does-but really, there's another ship out there."

"There shouldn't be." Keith came up alongside Lance, shading his eyes with his hand and following his gaze. Instead of responding, Shiro scratched at the scar across the bridge of his nose, some of his only proof that he'd ever had his encounter with the _siren_. At least, that was what they'd called it; there was hardly a better word. For the past year, it had haunted Shiro; he saw it in his dreams so much that he began to think he'd see it out of the corner of his eye on the open sea when he was wide awake. He couldn't even bring himself to get rid of the hair; he'd braided it and kept the coil in his pocket.

"Uh, I'm not sure about you guys, but I'm getting some creepy vibes from that ship. Lance? Can you see the nationality?"

"Uuh...they don't have _any_ flags up. Shiro? What do we do?"

Shiro leaned over the wheel, squinting hard towards a small ship. He could see cannon windows; that didn't seem quite right.

"Can you see what's happening on deck?"

There was silence as Lance adjusted his view.

"Uh...so far, I can only see two people on deck...they've got some kind of big cat with them, and it's loose on deck...I don't know, their ship looks pretty busted up."

"Do you think they need help?"

"Whoa, Shiro, no flag equals red flag, remember?"

"Lance, do you think they need help?"

"I...I don't know. It's not really my call."

" _I_ don't think we should take the risk; we have a full load of crystals, Shiro, and we need to get them to Shay. She's the one paying for this last expedition anyway."

"We do need to protect our cargo...but we should help anyone who needs it."

"Shiro, I don't know."

Keith turned around to face him, leaning his elbows against the ship's railing. "I think we should just stick to ourselves."

But Shiro had stopped paying attention.

The person behind the wheel of the other ship was a woman with dark skin and very light hair, pulled back from her face.

He wasn't concerned about her; he was concerned that they were close enough now that he could make her out, and that she was staring right back at him.

"Nevermind, we need to get out of here."

"Shiro? What?"

"That ship is far too fast to be anything good, and they're catching up to us _fast_. We need to get out of here."

"Look, I don't like to say I told you so, but-"

"-Hunk, worry about it later, you heard Shiro. We need to get _lost_." Keith leapt almost eagerly from his awkward perch to the nearest rope, dragging himself up and opening the sail. Lance looked up to Shiro for direction; Hunk began to head back under deck.

"Hold on, hold on, we need to plan this out. We can't hope to outrun them."

Keith stopped, looking down from the center mast. Lance closed his eyeglass. Hunk glanced to the stairs.

"Okay, Shiro. Tell us what to do."

"Look, if we had more time I'd argue against that, but right now, Hunk, you need to go under deck. Move everything as low as you possibly can, and lock _all_ the doors. Hide the keys at the bottom of one of the food barrels when you're done; we don't want to lose Shay's load. I want you to stay on ship, under deck; we are going to have to engage and I want at least one trump card, and it doesn't seem like they've done a head count yet."

Hunk nodded, expression serious, and began to head down the stairs.

"Wait, so do you mean, like, you want me to hide with the load? 'Cause, like, I think that's what you mean, but-"

"-Lance, if we have to board before they board us, I want you to come with me. You're friendly enough to prove to them that we want to be peaceful. Be yourself, but not too much, okay? Hide as many weapons on you as you can, though. I know you have a freakish skill with that."

Lance gave a thumbs-up before sliding across the deck of the ship towards what would've been the captain's quarters, instead made into a small arms storage. "Keith, I want you to stay up there until we figure out what we're up against. If they're hostile, I'll need you to do what you do best, but not until you see someone attack first."

"You got it." Keith swung higher into the mast, opening the rest of the sails.

Shiro glanced back at the nearing ship again. He could see, now, that the big cat was a lioness, stalking the deck behind a man who, candidly, looked nothing short of ridiculous. He had long ginger hair, brushed back, but a stubborn curl seemed to have popped out to rest against his forehead, a bushy moustache to rival most inventors', and a bright blue and yellow suit. Additionally, he was running back and forth and shouting, seemingly panicked.

The woman behind the wheel was making no effort to control him. She wasn't doing much of anything except stare at Shiro.

"Wait, what?"

"Shiro? What is it?"

"Th...the woman...she's tied to the wheel."

" _What?!_ "

"You there!" The man shouted from the other ship. His voice shook and he stood stock-still. His eyes were jerking from below the railing in front of him to Shiro. The woman whose wrists were bound to the inside of the wheel didn't speak or move.

Shiro let go of the _Paladin_ 's wheel and gestured for Keith to drop anchor.

"Is everything alright over there? Who are you?"

Shiro called, coming to stand next to Lance. Keith had still not moved from his hiding position. Lance slowly closed his eyeglass and left the rail, to drop anchor in Keith's place.

"Oh! Um, everything's fine. Nothing wrong here. All good! Ho-How are you?"

The man smiled hugely. It was nothing short of terrified and terrifying.

"I'm going to board your ship." Shiro declared, bending under the rail and returning with a plank of wood, never before used. Lance made a small sound of panicked protest, and the man nearly shrieked.

"No! We-we don't need any help, thank you, thank you!"

Shiro simply gave the man a look and positioned the board.

"Look, clearly something is wrong. And, if nothing is wrong, then you have nothing to hide. Who are you?" He stated calmly, stepping lightly across the makeshift bridge.

"No, please-for your own good-!"

Shiro jumped down to the deck of the tiny battleship.

The next instant was filled with movement; the lioness snarled and reared back, a man appeared from under the railing in front of the red-haired man, pistol trained between his eyes, daring him to move, the woman tied to the wheel cried out, " _Voltron, no!"_ And another woman appeared from behind the wheel, musket aimed directly at Shiro's chest.

"Nobody move. Nobody piss off the lion." The new man breathed.

"Oh, please, Voltron wouldn't be pissed it all if her owners were free!"

"Shut up, Lady." The woman who'd appeared tapped her captive with the edge of her gun dangerously. This new woman had huge yellow pigtails that swung almost to her hips, and the man had a pointed, thin nose, his forearms bandaged heavily.

"What's going on? What is this?"

"Hey! Keep. Your voice. Down. Like I said, don't piss off the lion."

Shiro's hand rested on his bridge, prepared to retreat.

" _SHIRO!"_

Keith had finally noticed what was going on and shrieked, leaping from his hideaway to the deck of the _Paladin_.

The lioness snarled, and lunged.

The woman bound to the wheel screamed, but it was too late. Shiro was pinned to the rail and the creature was ripping into his arm, and he was so stunned that he had no power to fight it. The man holding the pistol swore, managing to get a hand at the ruff of the lioness' neck and ripping her away, where she proceeded to tear into him instead. The ginger man leapt onto her back, literally, and as his crew screamed for him, Shiro toppled over the ship's rail, unconscious, plunging into the ocean below.


	4. Chapter 4

Pidge tasted the blood in the water before they saw the shape sinking elegantly. The form was falling between the huge beasts of ships, leaving their shadows, ones Pidge usually hid under. In an instant, the tuft of white hair had Pidge intentionally going after a human, fighting any instinct they still had. They caught him under his arms and captured his quickly sinking body in their tail like a seahorse clinging to weeds.

The creature that had once been human held another creature that was still mostly human, but he was very large in their slim arms, and they were not as strong as they would've liked to pretend.

His eyes were closed, serenely unconscious, even as his emaciated arm bled into dangerous waters. The last bubbles slipped from his lips.

Humans _needed_ air. Pidge remembered that much.

They looked up to the surface, well above them, marred with the shapes of humans far more dangerous than the one in their arms.

Shiro opened his eyes slowly.

Someone was kissing him.

No, not quite _kissing_.

There was a mouth pressed into his, but it was trying to force air through.

He realized, too, that his nose was pinched shut.

And then he saw through his open eyes, saw that he was underwater, saw the arms wrapped around him and felt the slow ascension as this person gave him air and tried to bring him to more of it.

Something in his arm stung sharply.

He blacked out again.

Pidge gave a scream of effort and frustration. Their gills hurt from abuse, their mouth was raw from breathing for the man, and their entire body ached from moving him, but they were almost there. They popped their head above the water once more. It was only a few more yards to the shore. They looked down at the man, still trying to assess his wounds. His arm had been bitten severely; Pidge could see bone through the exposed muscle and ceaseless blood, and it made them sick to remember the last time they had seen an injury so severe.

With a final heave of effort, they pulled the man out of the sea and onto the sandy beach of a long-forgotten island. He gave a weak huff; at least he was still breathing. Pidge brushed his hair away from his forehead and wiped the saltwater from his face. Weakly, he gave a pained sound. Pidge swallowed heavily and finally turned their attention to his wound. It was so much more real when it was not hidden by the red cloud.

They couldn't help it. They gave a choked sob.

 _Okay,_ they thought. _It's going to be okay. I'll make you okay._

With a whimper, they turned away from his wound.

They slid back into the tide, returning with a small sack. The man gave a breath that wasn't a s strong as it should've been. Panicked, they ripped it open. Out tumbled a knife, a pair of cracked glasses, and a bottle alight with violet color. They lifted the knife, and their gaze fell to their own hand. They compared it to the size of the man's wound. It would be plenty.

 _Wait. That's idiotic. What am I thinking?_

They stopped, blade resting on their wrist and hand over the missing chunk of the man's arm.

 _I'd be no use dead before I could even complete the process._

 _I'm sorry. You're going to be more like me than anybody wants._

Pidge choked back another cry as they tenderly lifted his hand and pulled it away from his body, stretching his arm at wide angle. They almost thought they could hear their own screams.

 _At least you're unconscious for this part. I wasn't._

They closed their eyes tight, lifted the blade above their head, and brought it down.


	5. Chapter 5

Shiro was laying in bed. Wind blew through the open window, flapping the curtains and casting soft and quickly moving shadows. He rolled over. The young woman next to him groaned irritably. Shiro placed a hand on her swollen belly and she shoved it off, giving him a half-hearted glare.

"You're on my list, Shirogane."

He smiled drowsily and rubbed her stomach again. She groaned again, putting her hand on top of his. Her wedding ring glinted in the early morning light. "Your stupid Asian baby is making me want ginger. I _hate_ ginger." She moaned.

He pushed himself up on one arm, grinning sleepily.

"I'm sorry, honey."

"No, don't apologize, it makes it too hard for me to be pissed at you." She lifted her shirt over her belly and threw a pillow at him.

"Hey, no swearing in front of the kid." He defended with a chuckle, letting himself be boxed with the pillow. She laughed hoarsely, and Shiro laughed back. He pushed the pillow away and took her under her arms, pulling her to his side of the bed and eliciting a shriek as he tickled her.

"Wait! Wait, the baby-baby just kicked!"

She grabbed Shiro's hand and pressed it into her belly, below her belly button and a little to the left. They gasped with delight as the child kicked at the intrusion.

"Hey, little buddy." Shiro whispered. He tucked his other arm securely around his wife and held his small family close.

He felt so peacefully happy.

He opened his eyes. The bright moving shadows was someone above him, moving with feverishly jerking and panicked movements. The wind whipping through curtains were waves crashing against rocks, and the warmth against his arm was just hands pulling away the mass of...what?!

He glanced at the limb no longer attached to him and fainted again. Pidge eased his head back and tossed the arm away from them carelessly. It was useless now, but they had to work, and fast.

The stones they lined up formed the shape of the man's arm, but they were unsure if it would work.

 _I have to try this. If Haggar saved me with_ fish _, I can save him with stones._

They pushed one closer to the rest, forming a thumb shape. Laid out in the sand, they had made the shape of an arm, starting right up against what remained of the man's.

Their hands were shaking too much to uncork the bottle; they opened it with their teeth, and hastily dumped the contents over the stones and the man's arm. Breathing carefully, trying not to panic further, they dropped the bottle.

The refined Quintessence fizzled as it came in contact with the stones and blood, glowing intensely. They pushed themselves into the tide.

 _I've done what I can. It's out of my hands, now_.

From behind the cove's protective wall of rocks, they watched the stones begin to lose their form, seeming to melt and reach out to one another. They moved like mercury in a jar, trying to cling to itself but unsure of the shape it was meant to take.

The edges of the new substance reached the jagged end of the man's arm, already closing its wound under the watchful care of the Quintessence. Very suddenly, the moving stone seemed to realize what it was meant to do, and closed the gaps with excellent precision. In only seconds after that, the stone stopped moving, and a newly-formed arm lay in the sand. Pidge crept up over the rock they were hiding behind, trying to determine how well their hasty plan had worked.

The arm was fully symmetrical when compared to the other, a blackish-gray that was marked with lighter grays where the finger and elbow stones had been. It looked fleshy enough, but unless they touched it it would've been impossible to tell. The man gave a sharp breath, and they dropped behind the rock, too frightened to be seen but too concerned to abandon him.


	6. Chapter 6

Shiro came to slowly. He was groggily trying to remember why he was on a beach-had his crew convinced him to make another stop, again?-when he vaguely remembered something called _Voltron_.

He tried to sit up, and remembered what it had done to him.

With a shocked shout, he tried to move away from the thing on his arm before he realized that it _was_ his arm. The eager waves had since washed away much of the blood, and he lifted his arm in shock, turning it this way and that so he might inspect it.

It looked like smooth black sea rocks, beaten under the waves until they were polished, but moved with all the dexterity and lightness of what had been there before. He lifted the arm and opened and closed the hand. It responded brilliantly.

His shock turned to awe, but the new arm wasn't the only thing to be concerned about. Where was he? He tried to stand, but found the rest of his body too weak to move so much. Very suddenly, he got the feeling that he wasn't alone.

Shiro looked around himself.

All he saw was an empty expanse of sand that rose into dunes behind him and a wide circle of rocks to block huge crashing waves before him.

And, of course, the little hand on a stone very near.

"Hello. I can see you."

The hand disappeared, and he was suddenly certain that he had seen it before. "Wait, wait! Please, wait!"

Shiro tried to stand again, but nearly fainted. "Please, don't go." He begged, collapsing back into the sand.

The hand reappeared, and a slender arm and shoulder followed it. An eye peeked around the rock, and then drew away. Shiro tried to smile warmly, but sparked a coughing fit.

In the time it took for him to recover and look up, the creature was planted in the thin waves right before him, hardly a meter away and looking him over with severe concern. He froze.

The creature was incredible, in a single word.

Its eyes alone were filled with some kind of childish delight that had melded into a cruel survival instinct, and blinked carefully as if they feared they'd miss something.

It had a nose like a pixie that tipped to the side as it tilted its head and inspected him, and turned its attention to his arm.

The creature seemed to forget all sense of fear as it grabbed his arm and inspected it. Unsure, he pulled it out of its grip, and the creature drew in a breath.

There was a moment where neither moved, like frightened prey.

It seemed to fully realize what it was doing and took a leap backwards, trying to escape back into a tide that had receded. It made huge gouges in the sand with its panicked tail, and opened its mouth. Ethereal sounds fell from it, like some true siren of legend.

Pidge was trapped between the man and the water that had fallen several meters behind while they were ensuring that he was safe.

 _Please, the first thing you have to know, you don't owe me anything! You don't owe me for it, I really mean it, don't think-_

But it did not matter what they were telling him. All he heard were elongated, slow, almost lazy notes of a melody that entranced him helplessly. Sure, the creature's face was urgent and they were hunched over themselves as if telling him something deathly serious, but all he heard was the lament of the very depths of the ocean.

He moved closer and they jerked away. He stretched his hand out, as if to touch them. Pidge stopped trying to talk, unsure, and he took a breath like he was breaking out of a trance. He pulled his hand away again.

"What-what are you?" Shiro barely whispered. He didn't dare to speak any louder, should he spook the creature. It considered, before drawing a circle in the air around its face. "Oh-oh. You can…you can understand me. Oh, wow." Shiro couldn't help it; a smile broke across his face. "It really is you, huh?"

Agonizingly slowly, the creature stretched out its fingertips and traced the scar across the bridge of his nose with the lightness of hardly an ocean breeze, so gentle that if his eyes were closed, he would not have known it was the creature. Hesitantly, and then very quickly, the creature nodded twice. "And did...did you do this?" Shiro raised his new arm. The creature bit its lip. It seemed entirely too sorrowful as it nodded forlornly. "Thank you. Really. I don't know what happened, but you probably saved my life."

 _Well, now we're even_ , Pidge tried to say, but upon opening their mouth, only watery song fell out, and the man's reaction was immediate as his eyes unfocused and his hand dropped limply.

As soon as Pidge had finished trying to speak, he seemed to snap out of it, and gave them a _very_ strange look.

And then he shook his head.

"I can't understand you, if you're trying to talk, and your voice is...well, I can't understand it, so that's all that matters."

They shivered suddenly. They felt horrible in some indescribable way.


	7. Chapter 7

With a hoarse cry, they made another frightened rush for the water. By then, it had receded well beyond the rocks of the cove. The man stood shakily, and came around to face Pidge.

"Hold on, hold on, you're going to hurt yourself!" He tried to grab their arms and lift them towards the water. He didn't make it far, and then Pidge was on top of him, unable to tell him to stop as he tried to lift them and fell again.

They grabbed his shoulders and pushed off, horrified.

They felt horribly sick; they hadn't been totally out of the water for so long before, and dehydration took its immediate toll. They rolled away from him and dragged themselves towards the rocks, but their body seemed determined to throw up before they could span even the few feet left. The man had since recovered, and rubbed at where their hands had touched him as he tried to stand.

"Look, look, I'm going to pick you up, okay? I'm going to pick you up, and carry you to the water." He knelt down and tried to slide a hand around their shoulder. Pidge shoved it away and shook their head feverishly. They couldn't even find the strength to cry, but if they'd had it, tears would have flooded their face. They hated how easily they cried.

Shiro, who could hardly believe he had even _seen_ a siren, was trying to pick one up. It was trying to get away from him but was so weak it could hardly even lift itself, and while it snarled as angrily as it could, he looked from the water to the creature and determined that it would not make it there in time. The creature seemed incredibly thin and underfed as it was, and if Shiro didn't find a way to get it to the water soon, he was certain it would die right there on the sand.

So he grit his teeth, reached for the creature's arms, and held tight, no matter what happened next.

He pulled it into his arms as if he were a husband carrying a bride, though careful to avoid any _scaly_ parts. The creature writhed weakly, trying to escape but not having the energy to move, and as Shiro reached the shallow inches of still-receding water, tripped.

He flopped forward awkwardly, panicking, and tossed the creature forward.

It hit the sand harshly, but had enough momentum to roll forward into shallow water.

Shiro gave a satisfied grin as the creature took a strong gasp of water, twitching weakly.

The human and not-completely-human lay in the sand, breathing heavily and thinking hard on their accomplishment.

Pidge wanted to run. They wanted to take off and never return, never see a human again, never try to speak again.

But they could not leave this man stranded. He was beginning to laugh weakly, and rolled onto his side, face only a few inches from Pidge's.

"I think it'll be a good idea to watch the tide." He chuckled softly.

Pidge whimpered. They curled up, rubbing at their face, and let out a sudden sob.

Shiro jolted up, painfully aware of the ache in his head, far more aware that the creature still seemed to be injured.

He was terrified to touch it, but he felt some human need to do just that, and as he glanced around the tiny and barren island, realized that he didn't have too many allies.

"What's the matter?" He asked softly, careful not to push the siren.

Pidge knew, and yet didn't know. They knew what was coming, they knew what was being instigated, and it terrified them. They didn't know what would happen, and they knew was that they were terrified and exhausted and felt more sick than they ever had, and they began to panic, which only made it worse, and they began to choke on the water they gasped into their throat, hacking it out as they wailed.

" _H-Help me…"_

Shiro bit back his own voice. The creature writhed onto their back, hiding their eyes in their hands, crying the whole while just the same.

"What? What did you just say?"

" _I'm scared...don-don't know w-why…"_

Pidge was wailing complete nonsense, knowing he could not understand them, barely able to understand themselves, exhaustion clouding every coherent thought left in their mind.

Shiro watched the creature writhe once more to the side, and then faint.

It had definitely spoken to him, said something understandable.

He reached out with his new hand, still numb with questions, when the water around the siren began to bubble.

Cautious, Shiro backed onto the sand.

The bubbling water wasn't like a boil; it was as if sea foam was rising around the siren, and then it _was_ , foam hiding the siren entirely.

The foam began to twist, contort, take a continuous shape.

The siren was still laying in the water, on its side, unconscious, and the foam made the partial shape of a person.

This human-shaped cloud of foam stroked at the siren's face once, before traveling its body and inspecting the tail, inch by inch, almost compulsively. It didn't seem to take note of Shiro, leaving trails of foam along the siren's body as it traced small scars and thin membranes the protruded from the tail.

Once the shape seemed satisfied in whatever it was looking for, however, it turned to Shiro.

A woman's voice, raspy and drawling, emanated from the foamy mass.

"Do not trust my siren, human. They have done enough damage already."

"What are you? What do you mean?"

The foam fell apart in rolls, washing up around him, and formed again just in front of his face. It reached out and fell over the stones that made up his arm.

The moment it touched Shiro, it triggered something in the back of his throat, a discomfort that made him want to vomit, and he blanched, scrambling backwards.

"Who I am doesn't matter. Not to you. I saved that child's life, sheltered them for years, and in return, they stole from me, and ran away from what they did. You have met them before, haven't you?"

Shiro didn't answer.

He could feel the braided hair in his pocket, but he said nothing, did nothing.

The foam formed a handish shape and reached for him. It brushed over the top of his head, and seemed ready to inspect him in the same manner as the siren.

There was a dangerous, angry snarl from behind it.

The siren was pushed up onto their arms, shouting _something_ at the foamy mass that had a voice. It was quite terrifying, actually; the creature still sounded ethereal, otherworldly, but lethal.

The foamy monster seemed to understand it, turning its attention to the creature it seemed to have had a hand in making.

"You're not just a thief, but an idiot too, i see now. Do you really think what you've done has helped anyone? You can't save him. You can't save yourself; you're only prolonging the inevitable, and you know that."

With that, the foam faded into the ocean, and the siren turned its attention once more to Shiro.


	8. Chapter 8

Shiro froze. The siren still looked weak at best, but they had a steely sort of determination. They would not be stopped from whatever they intended to do. He was terrified of them, terrified and so, so curious.

"Y-You spoke...I could understand what you said…" Shiro tried weakly, before he was utterly overwhelmed. "How did I get here? What happened to my crew? Who were those people? How did you do _this_ to my arm? Wh-what do you have to do with any of it?"

He curled his arms around his neck and tucked his knees to his chest, trying not to cry.

There was a gentle hand on his forehead.

The siren had pulled themselves up onto the sand, willingly abandoning the safety of the water, and was brushing his hair away from his face. They looked at him with some kind of accepted anguish.

Even if they knew the answers, they could not tell him.

Shiro took a breath, wary of the siren practically leaned against his knees, and pulled the braid out of his pocket. The siren tensed awkwardly.

"This was you, right? This is yours."

They nodded, not looking at Shiro or the hair. "And it's been…months. How did you find me again? Or-were you following me, that entire time?"

Again, the siren nodded, not looking at Shiro. "Why?"

They looked up, then, desperately pained. They closed their hands around their throat, like they were choking themselves, and then nodded in his direction, pulling their hands away. They placed one hand, small and cold, on Shiro's shoulder, and gesturing to themselves, pulled the hand away.

 _One good turn deserves another. I owe you my life; I did what I could to save yours_.

The man shook his head slowly, not understanding. Pidge made a sound almost like a whimper, a huff of frustration, and scuffed the sand with the heel of their palm.

 _Hey. That might work._

Shiro watched the creature dig their hand into the sand before pausing, staring at the indent they made.

With a goofy and enlightened grin, they dug their thumb into the sand, beginning to drag out lines. In moments, they were spelling, handwriting shaky and unpracticed, but manageable nonetheless.

They flopped back onto their hip and looked up at him proudly, gesturing down to the testament of cleverness in the sand.

 _I owed you_.

"'Owed' me? For what?" Shiro managed, voice weak.

This thing really was a human, or what was left of one.

As the creature went back to scribbling. Ther tongue stuck out halfway in concentration.

 _You saved my life! I owed you. Still do._

They brushed the hair out of their face and rubbed their cheek against their shoulder.

"Well, first off, you don't owe me for anything, but I _do_ need your help. I need to get back to my crew, or- get them to me, or something. H-how far away are they? Where even are we?"

The siren glanced first to the water and then to Shiro. They sullened painfully, pulling their shoulders up around their ears. They wiped the sand flat and began to scribble again, but Shiro took their wrist. They snarled suddenly and ripped their arm away.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched you without permission, fine. But I just need to know how I can get back to my men. Can you help me?"

They looked back to Shiro and pointed at his coat.

"My jacket? You-"

They gestured forward more urgently.

"Okay, okay!"

Shiro pulled his jacket off and handed it over. The siren pulled it over their shoulders and disappeared back into the sea.

"Hey!"

A green fin sparkled briefly above the water, and disappeared in a splash.


	9. Chapter 9

"We need a _plan_ , Keith, one that involves more than just holding these people at gunpoint!"

"Lance, I'm trying to think, but that doesn't help!"

Keith snapped back, swiping his hand through his hair nervously.

They were on the offending ship, laced to their own hastily. The two groups that had both claimed to be the original owners of the ship were separated, the woman with the lion- who they believed more- easily breaking herself out of any bond they attempted to put her in. She insisted that she would remain peaceful, but refused to speak to anyone but their captain concerning their previous affairs.

"We already told you, our captain was the one your monster attacked, and he-he's-"

Lance shuddered.

"It's been almost a full day, and he hasn't surfaced, there hasn't been a single sign of him or whatever that _thing_ was, so, I'm acting as captain, and I'm not all that patient, so-"

There was a loud, inhuman cry from somewhere on the other side of their own ship.

Hunk, who had been alone on its deck, dropped the spyglass and backed towards Keith and Lance nervously.

"Uh...you heard that, too, right?"

There was another cry like the first, and a thump against the hull of the ship. It wasn't terribly strong, but echoed through their ship.

Keith leapt back to the Paladin, gun raised towards the opposite deck.

There was another thud, and at the prow of the ship, there was a loud, wet smack as a form flopped onto the railing.

Keith screamed and took a firing stance, but Lance grabbed at the barrel of the gun and forced it into the air.

"Keith, what are you thinking?! That's a _person_!"

Pidge panted awkwardly. They had taken too much energy to scale the ship, and could only hang weakly on the rail, watching the vague shapes of humans fight near the mast. Pidge made another sound, just trying to get attention, and threw the coat onto the deck.

"Oh my god!"

" _What is that_?!"

"That's Shiro's coat!"

A figure came closer to Pidge, a blue shirt that looked only half-buttoned. It lifted the coat, and turned back to face Pidge.

"...It is. It's Shiro's coat."

A new figure came up, a red jacket, and seemed aggressive, knife out and partially crouching.

"That thing…it looks like…"

There was another further back, a yellow hairband, and the voice that left the shape was testy and nervous.

"That's a siren!"

A shape from the other ship shouted.

Pidge closed their eyes weakly, gasping.

"A what? Ma'am, you're talking about...legends. There's no such thing."

"How can you say that when it's _right there_?! And that's your Captain's coat, is it not?"

The man in the red stepped very close to Pidge.

"What did you do to Shiro?" He demanded.

Pidge lifted their head, and let go of the railing.

They gasped gratefully as they fell into the sea, cold and clear, and surfaced again, gesturing at the entire ship to follow.

"What is it doing?"

"It wants us to follow?"

Pidge made the same gesture again, and began swimming away.

"Do we trust it?"

"Do we have a choice?"

Pidge dove under.


	10. Chapter 10

Shiro hissed again, frustrated and feeling his neck getting sunburned.

He needed a plan, but considering that the glorified mound of sand he was stranded on didn't seem to be connected to anything else and his only ally had stolen his coat and disappeared, he was drawing several blanks.

He closed his eyes, exhausted, and cupped the back of his neck with his new hand.

He remembered a few quick moments- a woman with a gun, a lioness with blood in her teeth, numbness through his body, the sting of saltwater, and the kiss of a siren.

He'd heard it said that a siren's kiss let sailors breathe underwater, and though it wasn't in the way it was probably meant, he supposed that it was technically true.

What of the siren, if he could even really call it that? They couldn't have come into this world that way, if what the water-witch had said was true, if what he had seen, huge scars spanning the space where scales met skin on their hips, was accidental. But how could a human become...like that?

He opened his eyes again, bringing the stone flesh of his arm in front of him.

Like this, he supposed.

He shuddered. The thought of losing his arm alone was bad enough, but to lose an entire half…

He heard a chirp of some kind, far off. Shiro jerked to attention.

At first, he thought he was hallucinating; two blobs were shivering on the horizon, far too close together for comfort, and about half the distance between them, a quickly-moving form splashed along the surface of the water.

The siren.

They'd come back for him.

He sighed heavily, relief actually forcing the muscles in his body to relax, and he fell onto his back gratefully. The blobs had to be ships; they _had_ gotten help.

He looked back to the gouges they had left in the sand from trying to write. He had so many questions for them, now he had time to think, but how could he ask? He was going to get on a ship and leave, go to a shore and then a hospital, he would abandon the little siren to the sea, and likely never see them again.

No. He couldn't let that happen.

But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't stay out here, they couldn't come on land...would they even want to see him, anyway?

They said they owed him a life debt, and, well, clearly they had repaid it. Their need to interact with him was done; once the ships were here, they would probably disappear into the ocean anyway.

He just _couldn't_ let that happen.

He heard them chirrup again, almost urgently, and then they were on top of him, holding his face and feeling his chest worriedly.

Shiro opened his eyes and sat up slowly.

"I'm alright, I'm alright." He told them, watching as they lost their confidence again and scuffled back.

They turned, looking out to the ocean, and laid down weakly just under the surface of the water.

They had to be exhausted; Shiro saw the muscles where thighs should have been twitching now and again from strain, and their stomach had already been unhealthily flat, but now Shiro could see their ribcage all the way up until it was interrupted by the muscles of their breasts.

One of the fins that sprouted from their forearm had torn, and their shoulders seemed red; they must have gotten sunburned, which, they were so pale that Shiro couldn't have been surprised.

Still, though, they had enough life in them to crack their eyes open, see him looking, and crack a weak grin.

Shiro smiled back, because really, what else was he supposed to do? The little creature had done everything they could and then some for him.

" _Shiro!"_

" _SHIRO!"_

He turned back to the ships, which were now clear shapes, one towing the other. Keith and Lance were practically climbing the rails, shouting at him and waving frantically.

They wouldn't be able to hear him if he tried to speak yet, so he just lifted his hand, that he could see them.

The creature gave a weak sound and tried to sit up, but was still too weak, exhausted.

He lifted up the small bag that had washed ashore, shaking it slightly so it caught the creature's attention.

"Is this yours?" He asked, and they nodded. He opened it carefully. It contained only a pair of glasses, one lense cracked, and an old and rusting blade.

Shiro unfolded and folded the glasses curiously. There was a small series of scratches inside one of the arms of the glasses, and Shiro had to squint to read it.

"Holt?" He asked, and the siren tossed a hand up out of the water playfully. "That's your name?" He asked, and the siren hesitated a moment before nodding.

Shiro smiled. "I'm glad to finally know it." He told them, and their teeth bared slightly, just enough to show a smile.

Shiro leaned forward over his knees, curling his arms into the sand, watching Holt move.

They tried, weakly, to roll onto their back, curling their tail forward like they could hold it. He watched them move gingerly around their sunburn, and as the water began to glimmer with the setting sun, Shiro knew it would only get worse. Shiro glanced up. It wouldn't be long before the ships would be too close for Holt to escape around them. He shed his vest, then began to unbutton his shirt slowly. Holt opened their eyes just barely, brow confused as he tugged his shirt off his shoulders. He knelt in the water and tossed it around them.

"Here. It'll at least keep the sun off your skin." He explained, and Holt eyed him suspiciously, but slid their arms through its sleeves nonetheless. He watched their skin, freckled and light, disappear under the white fabric.

"Were you American? Canadian?" Shiro asked casually, and Holt considered briefly before shaking their head.

"British?"

Another weak shake of the head. _No._

"French, Italian, Spanish...any kind of European?"

 _No._

"Asian? Indian? Saudi?"

 _No._

"...African?"

 _No._

Shiro watched them, confused. There was one possibility left, but he was far too afraid to ask it. No, he reasoned, there was no way a being so small could've been a Pirate.

Shiro grit his teeth. He'd made a plan, but he wasn't sure he liked it. He knew Holt wouldn't like it, knew his crew probably wouldn't like it, but he had to hope that they'd forgive him. Shiro refused to leave this siren to the sea.

"Get out of the way!" Lance cried, practically hanging off the ship, which was far closer now.

Shiro braced himself, took another breath, and lifted Holt into his arms again.

They didn't react at first, so tired, even leaning into his neck, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, but when he didn't immediately put them down again, they gave a short, warning chirp.

"Shiro? What happened to your arm?!" Hunk cried, and Holt made another sound, anxious at the presence of these other humans.

"I'll explain in a minute. Throw me a net first."

"A net? Shiro, what-"

"-Just do it! Quickly!" Shiro demanded; as soon as he'd said the word 'net' Holt had shrieked and begun struggling. Shiro quickly discovered just how strong his new arm was, locked around Holt's waist. He tried not to feel their fists against him, the hand that had knotted into his hair and pulled, hard.

Obediently, Keith had tossed down one of the few fishing nets they kept aboard the _Paladin_ , and Shiro struggled to contain Holt and grab the net.

"It's for your own good! I can't just abandon you!" He tried to explain, but Holt curled their elbow back and drove it against the bridge of his nose, making Shiro cry out as he saw stars. His new arm managed to hold fast, and his stomach churned as he felt their bones through their flesh, twisting in opposition to him. Holt was crying, now, their watery voice doing nothing to help them. With a powerful push from their tail, they managed to knock Shiro off his feet and into the wake, tearing at the arm they had given him.

Shiro heard the splash of another person landing ashore, and as soon as he managed to sit up to look, the woman who'd been tied to the other ship had tossed the net over Holt's writhing body, folding it neatly and trapping them with the net's opening under her heel.

"You must be Captain Shirogane." She huffed, pulling her hair away from her face as she looked down at Shiro, paying no mind to the singing, screaming mass of scales and skin trying to pull her over. "You may call me Princess Allura."

The woman took Shiro by his stone arm, pulling him up.

Holt sobbed a final time, constricted, every movement they made tightening their prison.


	11. Chapter 11

_Why?_

 _Why?_

 _Why?_

 _Why did I trust him?_

 _Why did I help him?_

 _Why did he do this to me?_

 _Why?_

Pidge wailed uselessly, sobbing, screaming and writhing, but from where they were hanging over the side of Shiro's ship, they could not see if anyone was listening. They were only partially under the surface of the water, bobbing pitifully along with the waves.

He had held them, in the net, held them close and tried to speak, tried to apologize, even, but the other humans had made him go, made him do _this_ , hang their net from the side of his ship and walk away. Night had since fallen, and they shuddered as they screamed, the air so much horribly colder than the deep water they were used to. They could see flames, up on the deck, and occasionally a form would appear at the railing, peering down at them before disappearing again. The one in red, he was calmer somehow than the others, more calculated, and had observed them with both skepticism and curiosity. The one in blue — Pidge figured his name was probably Lance, it was yelled at him so much — he tried to touch them, right away, reaching for their tail. The yellow one hadn't dared to come close.

If Pidge turned their head over, they would see the other ship, and hanging from it, another net. There were two other prisoners in that net, but they had legs, they were hoisted higher up, above the water.

A rope ladder was dropped from the deck above Pidge, and they redoubled their wrathful screaming, only to fall silent when Shiro's coat came into view, and then the man himself. He sat on one of the rungs of the ladder, holding himself just slightly above the water, and watched them morosely as they glared back. They growled, deep in their chest, baring their teeth.

"Are you hungry?" Shiro asked, his voice gentle and considerate.

Pidge snarled in lieu of a response.

"I didn't want this, either, you know." He tried, flinching away when Pidge flung themselves at the net, tearing at it with their teeth furiously.

"But the others don't trust you, and can you blame them? All they've seen of you is stealing me, and-"

Pidge snarled again, a legitimately horrific sound, their broken and jagged nails tugging at the net.

"-and _this!_ It's awfully hard to convince them that you're not dangerous when you've been screaming for the last three hours, you know!"

Pidge cackled, a mirthful, mocking sound. How dare he act surprised when forcing them back into a net yielded similar results to the first time he found them in one?

Shiro sighed, rubbing at his face.

"Do you even believe that I'm trying to help you, anymore?" He asked.

Pidge gave no sign of having heard him.

"If I'm honest with you...I don't know how I can help you...or what you even want."

Pidge turned away, facing the other ship, and the other prisoners. They were asleep, it appeared, or at least not moving.

Shiro sighed again, and Pidge heard him ascend the ladder.

They curled their fin to their chest, soaking up warmth from their own body.

Over the battering of the waves on the hull of the ship, Pidge heard a cackling, distant and cruel.

The water under them began to bubble, and Haggar rose out of the seafoam, the satisfaction on her face obvious as Pidge began to sob again.

 _Please, help me, please, I'll come back to you, you were right about the humans-_

Haggar laughed again cruelly.

"-I have little need left of you. Don't worry, little one; I helped you already. Now, you will help me."

She leaned in, depositing something around Pidge's neck, through the netting, and then faded away again.

Pidge looked down at their chest, a tiny human tooth on a chain glinting back.


End file.
